Memories (Someone We'll Never Meet)
by Little she-bear
Summary: The journey an Awoken child takes from The Reef, to Earth and The Last Safe City.
1. Chapter 1

Any child of the Reef understands the importance of The Rules and often have them committed to memory long before they are capable of writing them down. Obey your parents. Listen to your teachers. Respect the Queen. Always ask permission before Linking with someone. Stay away from the airlocks. Never waste water.

Sofia is eight years old and beginning to grasp that The Rules are not just for children. She has a vague understanding that her very existence is a result of her parents following The Rules diligently enough to be granted permission to have a child. Now and then, she'll ask her parents if she'll ever have a brother or sister. After all, the Queen has a brother, why shouldn't she? Mama always smiles and says they must wait and see what They say ("They" are the people who make The Rules but she's not entirely sure who "They" are beyond the Queen and Prince Uldren). If They think the hydroponics bay is producing enough food, if They think there is enough potable water, if They think the atmospheric systems can handle it, then They may authorise that tiny, longed-for population increase.

Papa seldom says anything when she asks, he just sighs and clenches his jaw. Very occasionally, he will mutter something along the lines of, "It shouldn't matter what They think," Mama always shoots him a warning look and he does not say any more. Papa does not much like Them, or the Queen, so Sofia has one extra rule to remember: Never repeat what Papa says about the Queen outside.

Sofia is bored. She has finished her homework, Mama is out working in the hangar bay and Papa is at home but he is reading. He is always reading, every chance he gets. Mama often teases Papa about it, she says he should have been a Cryptarch. She is not really joking though, not _really._ She probably would have preferred that, she would worry about him a lot less. Sofia knows Papa is smart, definitely smart enough to be a Cryptarch but she just cannot imagine him being cooped up in the libraries of 10 Hygiea. Besides, that is another thing Papa likes to mutter about, he does not approve of the Cryptarchy's obsession with locking knowledge away in engrams.

Sofia walks circuits of their modest quarters, performatively sighing and swinging her arms. "What's the matter?" Papa asks, peering at her over his book. She crosses over to him, taking some satisfaction from the fact that her theatrics succeeded in

distracting him from his studies.

" 'M bored," she mumbles, flopping against Papa's side, as though the ennui is so crushing she can barely stand. "Can we go to the observation deck? I'm bored." In these moments, Sofia thinks she would like to be a Corsair like Papa. The Reef is so confining with so little space and so many rules, it must be exciting to explore beyond the asteroid belt, salvage ships, fight off marauding Fallen (but oh, how Mama would worry if both her husband and daughter were to venture into such danger).

"No, it's nearly time for your bed," Papa replies. His tone of voice is not too stern but he has a way of making it clear that his word is final.

"It's too cramped in here, I want to see the stars."

"I can take you tomorrow, I'm off-duty." He smiles faintly, "If you think this is cramped, you should have seen the pod your mother and I were assigned after we got married. It wasn't much more than a wardrobe. This is positively palatial compared to that."

"They could have given us a window," she complains sullenly before launching into another dramatic sigh. "Papa, I'm _bored!"_ She emphases the last syllable, drawing it out because Papa clearly did not hear her the first two times she said it.

"Come here, Starshine," he pats his knee, motioning for her to sit, "come read with me."

Sofia wrinkles her nose, they make her read in school. She never understood why Papa reads for fun but she clambers into his lap nevertheless. She peers at the title at the top of the page: _This Lime Tree Bower My Prison._ She immediately starts firing questions at him:

"What's a lime tree?"

"It's a tree that limes grow on."

"What's a lime?"

"It's a type of fruit, we don't have them here, they only grow on Earth"

"What are they like?"

"I don't know, I've never tasted one. They're green, I know that much."

"Oh. What's a bower?"

"It's…" Papa pauses to search for the right words. "It's like a shelter formed from tree branches."

"So, someone chopped off the branches and built it?"

"No, no, the trees grow that way, it's a natural canopy." Sofia frowns, trying hard to visualise something that could come into being without being designed, crafted and manufactured by people. The only world Sofia has ever known consists of the man-made and space, nothing else.

"How can that be a prison?" Sofia doesn't know much about trees, having never seen a tree in real life but she is fairly certain you cannot lock someone up in one.

"Why don't we read on and find out?"

It takes a long time for them to reach the end of the poem. They take frequent breaks for Sofia to ask the meanings of certain words or to insist that Papa describe natural phenomena that he has no more direct experience of than she does. He does not begrudge the near constant interruptions, he never loses his patience. He is happy to take the time to explain that no, leaves do not have to be green, they can be other colours too, or that a rook is a type of crow (no, not like Prince Uldren's crows, this is a real bird) and yes, waterfalls do exist. Sofia says she understands but the look of wonder on her face at the thought of such an abundance of water suggests she does not truly grasp it.

"What do you think?" Papa asks once the barrage of questions ends.

"If he was so sad, why didn't he just go with his friends?"

"I don't think he could, I'm not sure why. We'll have to ask the Cryptarchs if anyone knows." Papa runs his finger across the final lines of the poem, "But it didn't really matter by the end, did it?"

Sofia considers her answer. "No, because he was happy that his friends were happy." She sits up straight as a thought occurs to her. "How did he see what they did? Was he Linking with them?"

Papa laughs softly, "No. No Sofie, he just imagined being with them. This was written by a human, hundreds of years ago. Humans can't Link."

Sofia settles back down and rests her head against Papa's chest. She feels a sudden pang of sympathy for her human cousins back on Earth. She mentally reaches out to her father, tugging gently at the edges of his thoughts. The response is instantaneous. Suddenly he is there, in her head, his mind enveloping hers like a blanket.

"What's wrong, Starshine?"

"You said humans can't Link. It must be lonely," The sensations of warmth and safety emanating from Papa compound her sadness. She cannot imagine what it must be like to never feel her parents' love for her. She doesn't want to.

"Well," he begins in a reassuring tone, "you can't feel the loss of something if you've never experienced it, so they're probably okay."

"That's not true. You've never been to Earth but you miss it. That's why you read about it all the time."

Papa does not try to deny it, he cannot lie to her, not while they are Linked. "I...I'm curious about it. I'm not sure we should have abandoned it."

"It does sound nice." Her melancholy gives way to a sharp spike of excitement that echoes around Papa's mind like birdsong. "Does water _really_ fall from the sky on Earth?"

"It does. There's rain, rivers, oceans. More water than you could ever dream of."

"Can we go there?" She has a feeling that this is most likely against The Rules so she adds, "One day?"

"Perhaps." Sofia senses a hint of frustration in his emotions. "It depends what They say."

Sofia sighs. _Them_ again. "We'll go," she states, her childish confidence is an unstoppable force that has not encountered the immovable object of politics yet. "We will."

"You mother would have to agree to it as well. She might take more convincing than the Queen."

"Just tell her about the water." Sofia is convinced this strategy cannot fail because Mama hates water rationing.

"I'll do that."

"Will Mama be home soon?" Sofia swallows a yawn, determined to stay awake until her mother returns from work.

"Not for a while yet." Sofia can feel her eyelids growing heavy so she curls into Papa's embrace. They are still Linked and he is thinking about music now; a soothing, plangent melody she does not recognise (where does he learn all this? He should have been a Cryptarch). Papa gently gathers her into his arms and carries her to the cupboard that passes for her bedroom. She grumbles in protest when he lays her on her bed but he shushes her softly and bids her to sleep through the Link. It is more effective than any lullaby. "She'll be here when you wake."

When sleep takes her, she dreams of roaring brooks, calling birds and how wonderful it would be to swap the prison of a cramped, windowless pod for a sun-dappled bower.

Notes: The title comes from the Moon OST by Clint Mansell. It was a working title originally but it just stuck.

The Link is my name for the Awoken's latent telepathic abilities. The canon doesn't make it clear what the extent of those abilities are but we know the Queen can communicate over vast distances with the help of the Techeuns. The very fact that she was expecting a reply implies these sorts of abilities aren't limited to the Queen (though she's likely the most powerful). Awoken can hear the stars "sing" to them and have visions so, yes, I think it's fair to say even the most ordinary Awoken have some telepathic ability.

This Lime Tree Bower My Prison was written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and he couldn't go hiking with his friends because his wife had spilled boiling milk over his foot. Ow.


	2. Chapter 2

Sofia is nine years old and she is in trouble. She is sitting in her teacher's office along with her classmate, Marcus. She glances at the other child. Marcus' bottom lip is swollen and bleeding while Sofia has a bruise beneath her left eye which is beginning to ripen nicely. The boy wipes the back of his hand across his nose and immediately starts whimpering and crying. He must have momentarily forgotten about the right hook to the nose Sofia had dealt him just before their fight was broken up. Sofia smirks. Crying is not exactly _against_ the rules but it is discouraged. It's a waste of water.

Sofia's self satisfaction does not last long. Both her parents arrive and they are clearly not happy. There is a man she does not recognise with them. From the way he is glaring at Mama and Papa, she assumes he is Marcus' father.

Mama nods respectfully to the teacher before turning to her daughter. "Ms. Sadler. Fighting, Sofie?" Disappointment is etched on her face. "Really? What's got into you?"

Sofia shrugs and lets her gaze drop to the floor. She cradles her right hand in her left. She did not realise throwing a punch could hurt that much. "He was being mean. I got mad."

Ms. Sadler explains that while Marcus should not have provoked her, violence towards a fellow Awoken is never acceptable. They are trying to build something here so cooperation is vital. Fighting is not to be tolerated. The boy's father nods and harumphs in agreement with the lecture. Mama continues to look disappointed. Papa folds his arms and his face takes on that sceptical expression it always does when the subject of They Who Make the Rules comes up.

"What did he say?" Papa asks quietly.

"I'm sorry?" Ms. Sadler looks confused.

"What did the lad say to set Sofie off like that?"

"Does it matter?" Retorts Marcus' father, angry and incredulous. "Your daughter nearly broke my son's nose, who cares what he said?"

"It matters. I care." Papa does not raise his voice but he is all the more intimidating for it. "Well?"

Ms. Sadler fields the question as tactfully as she possibly can, "He uh, made some disparaging remarks about you and your wife's political views."

Papa raises an eyebrow. "Politics. They were fighting over politics?"

"He called you traitors!" Sofia interjects, scowling at Marcus.

"Well. That's a strong word." Papa turns to face the boy's father. "I wonder where he picked it up?"

"As I said," Ms. Sadler interrupts, "There was fault on both sides here, I'm sure we can patch things up and move on." She plasters a smile on her face. "Hm?" Despite her best efforts at diplomacy, she obviously feels the situation getting away from her. Mama and Papa are both staring down the other man. They look like patching things up is the furthest thing from their minds. Ms. Sadler hastily brings proceedings to a close, extracting grudging apologies from the children and assurances that this will not happen again from the adults.

After they file out of the office, Marcus' father snarls at Papa, "You know, The Reef would probably be better off if people like you _did_ leave."

Mama rounds on him, "People like him?" She points at Papa, "He risks his life every other day to keep people like _you_ safe! What great deeds have you done for The Reef lately?"

"You're dissidents, we don't need that kind of-"

"Mara Sov doesn't need people who have the gall to think for themselves, I know."

Papa lays a gentle hand on Mama's arm. "Leave it."

"No, he doesn't get to talk to you like that!"

Papa flickers his gaze to Sofia, then back to Mama. "Please."

Mama's expression immediately softens when she sees her daughter. Sofia has shrunk back, clinging to Papa's arm. His cloak has draped itself around her and she considers hiding her face in it. Her mouth is dry and she can feel tears pricking at her eyes. She cannot shake the feeling that her parents might be in more trouble than she is. She does her best not to cry.

"Just keep that little hooligan away from my son," the man snaps before stalking away.

"Likewise," Mama hisses. Sofia has never seen her so angry. Mama hunkers down to Sofia's level and coaxes her out of her sanctuary under Papa's cloak. "Let me have a look at you." Mama tenderly frames Sofia's face in her hands and studies the bruise on her cheek. "Yes, you're going to have quite the shiner by tomorrow morning." She fixes her amber eyes on Sofia's. "You steer clear of that boy. And if anyone else has a go at you, just walk away, you hear me?"

Sofia nods vigorously and swallows down another lump in her throat. "I'm sorry," she says in a tiny voice. "Have I got you and Papa in trouble?"

"No," Mama pulls her into a hug. "No, sweetheart. Don't take any notice of what that man said, that's nothing to do with you."

"What's a dissident?" Sofia enunciates each unfamiliar syllable carefully.

"It's…" Mama pulls back and looks to Papa as if for reassurance. Papa hangs his head. "It's someone who disagrees with the people in charge. And isn't afraid to say so."

"Oh." Sofia looks up her father. His brow is furrowed and his shoulders hunched.

"It's not an entirely inaccurate description. I'm sorry, Starshine, we never meant for any of this to hurt you. That's the last thing we wanted."

"It's okay. I promise I won't hit anyone else." Sofia positions herself between her parents. "Can we go home now?" Papa nods and takes her hand in his. Sofia winces and immediately pulls back. "Ow!"

"What's wrong?"

"My hand hurts," Sofia replies, then adds in an ashamed mumble, "from when I hit Marcus."

"I'll have to teach you how to throw a punch properly, one day."

"Oh, don't encourage her!" Mama exclaims, aghast.

"Hey, you were ready to take a swing at that guy," counters Papa.

"Yes, but I didn't."

"I'm not saying she should start fights, I just don't think it would hurt if she knew how to finish them."

Mama sighs. "That's it. You're _both_ grounded."

Sofia giggles, "You can't ground Papa."

Mama smirks and taps the 'Flight Engineer' insignia on her jumpsuit. "Oh yes I can."

... ... ... ... ... ...

Sofia sleeps fitfully that night. There's a knot in the pit of her stomach that refuses to untie, despite her parents' assurances that everything will be all right. She rolls over in an attempt to get comfortable and presses her bruised cheek against her hand. The pain jolts her fully awake. She can hear Mama and Papa talking in the next room so she assumes it cannot be too late. She checks her chronometer which shows it is gone zero-two hundred hours. Why are they still up? She lies still and just listens for a while. She cannot make out what they are saying but they sound upset. The knot tightens anew. Is this because of her? Are they arguing because of what she did? She slips out of bed and tip-toes to the door. She opens it a crack.

From this angle, she can see Papa. He's sitting down, resting his elbows on the table which serves as a dining table, kitchen surface and occasionally, a make-shift work-bench for Mama. He's rubbing his forehead, as though he is trying to massage away his worry lines, but only succeeds in creating new ones. Sofia can't see Mama but she can hear her.

"I understand what you're saying. I don't like this any more than you do but it's dangerous."

"It's dangerous here!" Papa extends his hands, palms up, in an entreating gesture. "We live on wrecked ships. Debris. Stations cobbled together from salvage-"

"The mining operations and foundries are up and running now, it'll get better." Mama paces into view, gnawing on a thumbnail in between speaking.

"When?" Papa exhales sharply, something between laughter and a sigh. "We've had so many near misses, so many near disasters with the engineering in this place. You understand that better than anyone."

"And the Fallen are heading to Earth, more every day. _You_ understand that better than anyone. They don't know we're here."

"You know what, you're right. We are safe from the Fallen here. We have weapons, tech, ships and as you say, a newly-minted mines and foundries and what do we do with them? Nothing. Do we help the people left on Earth? No, we hide behind this nebula. It's wrong."

Mama runs her hand through her hair and paces out of view. "That's very noble, but we have a daughter to think about."

Papa's face falls. He's quiet for a time. It can only be a few seconds but it feels like an an eternity in the ensuing silence. When he finally does speak, Sofia has to strain to hear him. "What is that supposed to mean?" Another silence. "She is _all_ I think about."

"I'm sorry." Mama is back in view. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"We weren't meant to live like this. Do you want our daughter growing up in darkness, behind bulkheads? Breathing nothing but recycled air? Never seeing the sun?"

"I know you want what's best for Sofie, I _know_ that." Mama slips into Papa's lap and wraps her arms around his shoulders. "But how can you be sure things are any better on Earth?"

"They have to be. There has to be something better than this."


	3. Chapter 3

Sofia is ten years old and they are having a history lesson in school. Earlier in the morning, Papa had asked Sofia what she thought history is.

"It's what happened in the past."

""No," he replied in that serious way of his. "It's the study of what people said happened in the past. Never forget that."

They are studying Book One of the Maraid in class. It describes how the Awoken came to be, how the Reef was formed. Sofia thinks this is a strange place to start. She is fairly certain that History goes back a lot further than that, is has to. Papa's poems are hundreds of years old, he said so. She decides not to say anything in class, mindful of her family's private set of Rules. She will ask her parents about it later.

Sofia sits, elbows on her desk, chin in her hands. She's pretending to listen to Ms. Sadler explain how Queen Mara saved them all from certain doom but instead, she is daydreaming about one of Papa's poems, the one about the daffodils. It is a funny word. Daff-o-dil. Far too silly-sounding for such a pretty thing. At least, she imagines they are pretty. Ms. Sadler is droning on, something about Starlight and Darkness, while Sofia is fixated upon images of yellow flowers, blue skies and a carpet of green as far as the eye can see. Once she has the image fixed in her mind, she is loathe to let it go. It is so hard to properly visualise anything that is not in shades of blue, black or Royal Purple.

"Sofia?" Ms. Sadler's voice cuts through Sofia's reverie.

"Yes?"

What did I just say?"

Sofia has no idea. She was far too busy wandering in her head, lonely as a cloud.

"Uh," she hazards a reasonable guess. "It was about Queen Mara?"

"No. If you'd been paying attention-"

Ms. Sadler is interrupted by a sudden rumble that seemingly reverberates throughout the whole station. Sofia grabs the edges of her desk to steady herself, expecting a shockwave to rock the little classroom. She feels vibration through her feet but nothing more.

"Stay in your seats." Ms. Sadler heads towards a console behind her desk. She calls for silence as a ripple of chatter breaks out among the children. She frowns at a read out before announcing that class is dismissed and everyone is to return to their quarters and stay there until further notice. "Come along," she says with forced brightness. "Quickly now, but no running. Two by two."

The class pair off and file out in not quite as orderly a fashion as their teacher would have liked. Cries of "What's going on?" and "Are we evacuating?" echo down the corridor.

"No one is evacuating, just…" She hesitates, as though she were unsure that she can project enough of an aura of calm. "There will be an announcement in due course."

Sofia knows it is foolish to expect a straight answer from one of Them. She opts to get information from a source who is not programmed to lie. She spots a Frame standing at the end of the corridor. She breaks away from her classmates and and marches up to it.

"Frame? What caused the noise at fourteen-twenty hours?"

The robot swivels its head to face her. "Explosive decompression in Hangar Six."

Sofia pales and just stares for a second or two. Mama and Papa are stationed in Hangar Six.

"Are my parents okay?" She quavers.

"Casualties reported. Identities unknown," it replies in its maddeningly calm voice.

"Are my parents okay?" Sofia raises her voice. She knows she's breaking the Rules here but she's past caring. "My mother is flight engineer -"

Someone grabs her wrist before she can scream her parents' names and ranks in this useless Frame's stupid, oblong face.

"Sofie…" Marcus is pulling her back into line. "You're not supposed to do that. Come on." His lips are set in a thin line and he is frowning deeply. Sofia cannot believe he cares about the Rules at a time like this. She is ready to punch him again (and she would know how this time. Papa taught her). She is about to yell at him to let go when she notices that his mouth is curving distinctly downwards and his chin is wobbling.

"What's wrong?"

"My dad's in Hangar Six too." There is a hitch in his breathing and his voice is strained.

Sofia puts aside her animosity and slips her hand into his. She can forgiving. "It'll be okay." She can be brave. "They do drills for this sort of thing."

Marcus nods but his brows remain stubbornly knotted together . Sofia is not sure she believes it either but she feels strongly that someone should say it.

When Sofia arrives at her pod she gives Marcus' hand a firm squeeze while saying, "It'll be okay. It'll be okay."

Marcus nods and repeats the mantra. "It'll be okay." If they say if often enough, it will become true. He lets go of Sofia's hand with some degree of reluctance and heads towards his own pod.

Sofia shuts the door and takes a seat at the table. Then she moves to the couch, perching on the edge. Then back to the table. She finally decamps to her bedroom. She grabs a stuffed rabbit toy off the shelf and curls into a foetal position on her little cot. She has told herself for the longest time that she is getting too old for the toy (what even is a rabbit, anyway?) but today, she clutches it to her as though her life depends on it. She stares across the expanse of the pod at the front door, waiting for some sign of movement. For all her grousing about how cramped the pod is, the thought of Mama and Papa never coming home again makes the place seem cavernous.

She glances at her chronometer periodically, each time expecting at least an hour to have gone by, only to see that the time has only advanced by a matter of minutes. She curls her fingers into her toy rabbit until her knuckles turn white, and her muscles start to ache from lying rigid and unmoving. After a seeming eternity, she hears the door seal pop and she springs back into a sitting position. She does not realise she has been holding her breath until the door finally opens and Mama walks through. Sofia exhales sharply before covering her mouth with her hand, stifling a sob. She does not remember running across the pod to meet her mother. One moment she is sitting on her bed, the next she is flinging her arms around Mama's waist and sobbing into her coveralls.

Mama crouches down and to Sofia's level and hugs her back just as fiercely. "Did someone tell you what happened?"

"I asked a Frame," she whimpers in response. "Papa?" She asks, fearful of the answer.

"He's out on patrol, he wasn't there. He's fine." Mama insists she's fine too but she is trembling, her hands are ice cold and she refuses every attempt Sofia makes to Link with her.

... ... ... ... ...

They pile into a cramped room in one of 10 Hygiea's libraries. Sofia stares in wonder around the walls. They are covered in shelves which are packed with books, hard drives and engrams. She is dying to rifle through them but she is under strict instructions not to touch anything. Sofia turns her attention to the other people assembled. There are all sorts; Engineers like Mama, pilots like Papa, maintenance workers, archivists and even three Cryptarchs. Sofia stifles a giggle. Their bright yellow robes make them look like three intellectual daffodils.

Mama had not been sure if Sofia should have come to this meeting but Papa was adamant. "She's old enough to understand. She deserves a say."

Sofia can hear voices engaged in a spirited back and forth discussion but she finds it hard to follow the conversation with the crush of bodies obscuring her view of who is speaking. Papa eventually notices her standing on her tiptoes and craning her neck so he lifts her onto a library ladder. He holds her around her waist to steady her.

"Don't fall." Papa whispers, smiling. "You mother would have my hide." Sofia smiles back, wraps her arms around his neck and grips his shoulder. She turns her attention back to the meeting. Two of the Cryptarchs are arguing.

"We have everything we need here. I see no sense in taking off into the unknown. We have defences, food, water -"

"Our material needs yes but-"

"What is more important than that, Rahool?" Counters the first Cryptarch. "This is a matter of survival."

"I have no desire to live in a city of pigs," The one called Rahool snaps back.

"Pigs? What are you talking about?"

"Oh read a book, Ives."

Sofia frowns in puzzlement but Papa is smiling softly. She leans in to whisper, "What is he talking about?"

"He means there's more to life than survival. There's leisure, art, beauty. They're important too."

"Oh. I get that." She nods until something else occurs to her. "What's a pig?"

Papa shushes her gently, "Later."

Another voice pipes up. "But he's right though. Earth is dangerous, the Fallen -"

"The Fallen are manageable." Papa does not raise his voice but somehow manages to cut through the hub-bub. "Besides, we should be uniting with Earth, not leaving the people there to their fate."

"Well that's very brave, very noble and perhaps rather too easy for someone in your position to say. We're not all soldiers here."

"If arguing from morality won't convince you, very well. How about pragmatism? Earth has resources we could use, we have resources Earth could use. I see no advantage to this division."

"We're Awoken, we are not human," that Cryptarch called Ives chimes in. "You may not see the sense in it but the division is there, whether you want it or not. Assuming we returned to Earth, there's no guarantee they'd accept us."

"We're more alike than we are different," Rahool steps into the fray again.

"And humankind has a long history of being accepting of difference," Ives replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Surely you of all people shouldn't need a primer on that?"

"I like to think that we haven't lost everything that the Golden Age gave us." Rahool's fists are clenched in front of him and his words are clipped.

"That's just wishful thinking. You can hope Earth will be safe all you want but we know we're safe here."

"I lost eight members of my crew last week!" Mama isn't yelling but she is not exactly calm either. Ives sits back in his chair a little, as though pushed back by the force of her words. "Two in the explosion, six got spaced. I was lucky I was hooked on, I'd have joined them if I hadn't been. More than a dozen injured. Do not talk to me about safe."

Sofia's gaze drops to the floor. Marcus has not been in school since the accident. She thinks his father must have died. She did not much like him, from what she saw of him but she feels for Marcus. She hopes whatever happened to his father was quick. She does not want to think of the alternative. It's too horrible.

Ives does not speak at first. He just looks at hands which are clasped in front of him. He will not look at Mama. Sofia does not blame him. When Mama and Papa stand shoulder to shoulder like this, she suspects the Darkness itself would think twice before taking them on. He eventually sighs and turns to Rahool.

"I can't be a part of this, I'm sorry." Ives' voice is soft, like his words are directed only at Rahool. He stands and nods respectfully to the female Cryptarch. "Mistress Karn. I shall endeavour to keep the libraries in good order should you decide to leave." He glances briefly at Rahool again before heading for the exit. Rahool goes to reach after him but this Mistress Karn shakes her head, lays a hand on his arm and gently lowers it back down. The room stays silent for a moment, as if everyone is unsure what to do now.

"What is our youngest attendee's opinion?" The female Cryptarch fixes her gaze on Sofia. "After all, it is the young who will need to deal with the repercussions of what we decide here."

Sofia freezes, acutely aware that dozens of pairs of eyes are suddenly trained on her. She glances at her parents for reassurance.

"Just say what you think, sweetheart." Mama smiles encouragingly. "Don't say what you think we want to hear. Be honest."

"Uhm." She coughs, then takes a deep breath. "The Fallen scare me. I think there could be lots of things about Earth that would scare me but…" She pauses to get her breath again. Her lungs seem too small all of a sudden. "The Reef is cramped. It's dark. The water keeps getting turned off. And if anything goes wrong, people could die. At least on Earth, we wouldn't have to worry about being sucked into space if we open the wrong door or flip the wrong switch. We wouldn't run out of air if an engine broke down." She takes another deep breath, feeling the words come more easily now. "And Earth has trees and rain and waterfalls and birds and clouds. And bowers. And daffodils. I want to see that. Don't see why I shouldn't get to just because I'm Awoken."

Mistress Karn steeples her fingers and smiles softly. "If you were told you could leave for Earth would you go?"

Sofia knows she should probably take a moment to think before responding but she knows her answer. She has known it for two years now. "Yes."

"And what if you were told that if you left, you could never come back?"

Sofia nods emphatically. "Still yes."

She senses both her parents on the periphery of her mind, waiting for permission to enter. She opens her thoughts to them and is suddenly deluged with Mama and Papa's pride in her. She wobbles on her ladder perch a little, knocked off-balance by this happy onslaught. She rights herself and smiles sheepishly, the colour rising in her cheeks.

"This is all well and good, Tyra," Rahool is speaking again but far less stridently now. It is like he has lost much of the fight in him since Ives walked out, "but this entire discussion may be moot. We're assuming the Queen will just let us leave, and there's no guarantee of that."

"I'll speak with the Queen, leave her to me." Mistress' Karn's voice remains calm and measured. Sofia suspects that there is very little that could faze her.

"What if she says no?" asks a young corsair. He looks agitated, scowling and fidgeting with his gloves. "Do we just roll over and accept that?"

"I doubt it would come to that, it wouldn't be politically expedient for her. I know Mara Sov. She is many things but she is not stupid. She knows there would be resistance and she knows that would be damaging for her. Far better for her to appear magnanimous."

"Resistance is a mild word for it," the young corsair growls and folds his arms.

Sofia broadcasts ripples of fear to her still-Linked parents. _What does he mean? Is there going to be fighting?_

 _No sweetheart_ , Mama replies silently. _It won't come to that. You heard Tyra Karn._

But what if it does?

Then Papa is in her head, calm but resolute. _I'll protect you, Starshine. I'll always protect you, never doubt that._


End file.
